


Divine

by Amymel86



Series: Tumblr Prompts [31]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, F/M, Georgian Period, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26511748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: It’s then that he notices it; the beauty mark high on her left cheek. A small, black heart shape in silk. “Your patch,” he says, “you positioned it yourself?” The location of her little black heart signified that she was taken – committed to a lover. Jon misliked it very much.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Tumblr Prompts [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/804069
Comments: 27
Kudos: 214





	Divine

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt fill for the lovely @viking-hel on tumblr

Bowing his head as he talks, Jon tries to keep is tones hushed. He holds her gaze while also scouring the ballroom for eyes turned in their direction. He finds them, violet and familiar and all too interested. “Lady Sansa,” he says, shifting closer. “I am afraid to tell you that I have cause for concern.”

Her brows – powdered pale – rise. Her carmine lips part prettily. “Concern, dear cousin? How so?” her fan flutters faster as Jon wonders when in their acquaintance of only a sennight he’d earned the ‘dear’ in her endearment.

He glances back at his father. The king is still watching them intently. “My father,” Jon says, turning his back on the man though feeling the weight of his gaze none-the-less. “He has been singing your praises since you arrived at court.” His cousin smiled at that, pleased. Oh, but she is a pretty thing. He wished she had not come – too good for the likes that litter the castle and the man rules it. “He called you _divine_ ,” Jon told her, ducking his head further. She is incredibly close. She has the scent of moonblooms and honeysuckle.

His cousin blinks at him, a small chuckle escapes her painted lips. “I am flattered by the king’s good opinion of-“

“You misunderstand,” Jon whispers, looking this way and that. He dare not check on his father’s attentions. “He means to make you _his mistress_.”

She is taken aback by that. Of course she is.

“But... but...” Her eyes are wide now. They find the king and Jon feels the need to garner her attention again before they are summond.

“I’ve seen that look on his face before, my lady. I’ve heard him say the same things. The object of such attentions were quickly given the position of ladiesmaid to my mother and even more quickly given different positions in my father’s bedchamber.”

She’s horrified. Why wouldn’t she be?

“But...” she looks to the opposite corner of the room now, finding the group of painted women flocked around his mother. Two of them official mistresses to the king, and a few more unofficial too.

It’s then that he notices it; the beauty mark high on her left cheek. A small, black heart shape in silk. “Your patch,” he says, “you positioned it yourself?” The location of her little black heart signified that she was taken – committed to a lover. Jon misliked it very much.

“The-the king,” she stammered, fan now working thrice as fast as before, her bosom rising and falling distractedly from her corset. “He had it sent to me. The woman – the maidservant who brought it to me – she insisted on applying it.”

There was an anger positively boiling over in his belly now. How dare his father declare so swiftly that his sweet cousin is to be his? No doubt he believes it to be his ‘divine’ right to take any filly he fancies.

Well, not _this one_.

“I do not want to be his,” she whispers, eyes pools of worry. “I cannot refuse the king, but... I came to court hoping to find a husband.” Her concern was understandable; no man would dare proclaim interest while the king sought her for himself. And once he’s had her and lost interest? Her chances of securing an advantageous match are hampered still by his involvement and her ruined virtue.

But... _perhaps_...

Jon throws his father a glance across the busy ballroom. Wetting his lips and squaring his feet he looks her in the eye. “What if I were to declare my intention to court you?”

Her fan pauses. “... your intention to court me?”

“Yes. A courtship that will last until my father loses interest in you. A failed courtship will not affect your prospects on finding a match once it is called off.”

Sansa looks nervous. Jon wants to whisk her away from King’s Landing to somewhere infinitely safer. “Your father will not agree to it,” she counters.

“We will not give him the chance,” he says before taking his dagger from his belt. His cousin’s eyes go round and he only chuckles. “Attention! Attention!” he says, clinking his dagger against his glass loudly. The room falls silent. Those violet eyes bore into him again. “I should like to make an announcement!” he calls.

_You’re not having this one, old man._


End file.
